Learning to Understand Dwarves (Lembas prequel)
Okey dokey it’s finally here! (For those who have not read my other work, ‘I Like My Lembas Soft in the Morning’, this story is a prequel to those events).
This story begins with your meeting with Gandalf, which soon leads to a meeting with Thorin.
Please enjoy, and feel free to check out my other stories, which are mostly written in Reader/X form :)
You breathed out through your mouth. Slowly. Deliberately. Trying to make as little noise as possible. The single female deer, only a few feet ahead of you, whipped its eyes back and forth, ears turning, attempting to catch any sound, but it soon calmed and went back to chewing on the tough grass beneath it’s feet.
You had been tracking this deer through the forests for what seemed like days, but was more likely only a few hours. It’s left flank was injured, probably from a wolf-bite of some sort, and it had been left by the rest of the pack. Easy pickings, but that didn’t mean that you were able to be sloppy.
Silently, your right arm reached around to your belt, and pulled out a newly sharpened dagger. Feeling the heavy weight in your hand reassured you, and your shoulders relaxed as you readied your arm to throw, aiming at the deer’s slender, exposed neck.
You flung your arm forwards, the dagger leaving your hand, but at that point, a loud crash through the underbrush startled the animal, and it bolted, leaving your dagger quivering, impaled in a tree trunk, the deer long gone.
Swearing quietly to yourself, you stood up, dusting the layer of mud off your faded green leggings. It had been days since you had eaten, and months since you had the pleasure of dining on meat. The deer would have made a welcome change from tree-bark and katniss roots, but it appeared that you would be dining on plants again tonight.
Plucking the dagger from the tree and tucking it back into your belt, you turned to the side, scanning the forest for whatever had made the offending noise and disturbed the deer. You expected to find a small stoat or a rat, scurrying around scavenging for fallen berries. What you didn’t expect to see was a tall, aged man, with a long, grey beard, dressed head to toe in a ragged cloak, with a tall pointed hat resting crookedly on his pointed head. In his left hand, he grasped what appeared to be a walking stick.
At the sight, you immediately shrank back, pulling out your dagger once more, ready to fight if necessary, but you slowed your hand when you looked closer at the old man’s face. It was wearied, and the skin was crumpled like waterlogged sheets of paper, but a youthful brightness gleamed behind his bright blue eyes.
Eyes which you would recognise anywhere.
"Gandalf?" you asked, taking a hesitant step forwards and glancing warily at the older man’s staff. Now that you had identified him, you realised that the innocent-looking object could do far much more damage than appeared.
The man’s weathered face broke out into a grin, flashing a set of pearly teeth, and he strode towards you, arms out.
You grinned as well and embraced the man with all your strength. It had been years since you had seen him last, when he had managed to rescue your ass from a particularly unfriendly band of orcs. You inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of dirt and longbottom leaf, a scent which you remembered with fondness.
Gandalf chuckled. A rumbling sound that vibrated through your whole body, before letting you go and holding you at arm’s length.
"You’ve grown since I last saw you, little one." he stated, his blue eyes searching your face, "And you have seen much. Too much…"
You averted your gaze and stepped away. You trusted the man, that much was certain, but some secrets should stay secret.
"Why are you here?" you asked him, looking up again into his eyes, "I thought you were going West-"
"Yes, I was, wasn’t I?" he agreed, playing with a strand of his long beard, "But I’m afraid, dear, (Your Name), that I am not quite finished with you yet. I’ve been searching these woods for weeks trying to find you. There’s something I need you for."
Your heart raced at his words. Wherever Gandalf went, danger was sure to follow, and you had seen your fair share of danger already. You weren’t sure if you were up to the task he would ask you to do.
But then you remembered. Surrounded by orcs, their hot breath burning at your skin, cruel laughter and the metallic screech of knives being drawn, then a flash of white light and a cloaked figure, swinging his sword this way and that, killing every orc in sight. You owed Gandalf your life. The least you could do was a favour…
"Alright," you said finally, "What is it that you want me to do?"
"Well It’s not really what I want…" he explained, "It’s more a favour for a friend…"
You rolled your eyes and sighed. Knowing Gandalf’s friends, the old wizard would have you foraging in the dirt for rare worms or climbing one of the Misty Mountains to collect a very specific type of moss.
"Which friend?" you asked him, desperate to get to the bottom of the mystery. Gandalf was a brilliant friend, but he constantly spoke in riddles. Sometimes, you were certain that the old man was speaking in tongues, he made that little sense…
"Actually, I’m off to meet him now in a nearby tavern," explained Gandalf, for once giving you a straight answer.
Your eyes lit up at the word, and he laughed his rumbling laugh once more.
"Yes, alright, alright," he chuckled, "I’ll buy you some food…"
And so you set off together, his tall stance dwarfing your shorter one, as you prepared to make acquaintances with this ‘friend’ of his.
Okey dokey the first Chapter’s up :) For all you guys coming here from the Lembas fic, Im sorry it’s taken so long to post. For those of you new to my stories, I hope you enjoyed and please review and follow :) xx
I can unabashedly say that that is completely true.
As a matter of fact, I found a new tea-house in my town centre today and spent about an hour and a half in it during my lunch break, and I was late back to college for chemistry.
But yeah I drink waaaaayy too much tea…
that is rrrright darling I can :)
aIthough it’s not my natural accent. I’m from the North, so we sound more like Christopher Eccleston (think 9th doctor)
Send me a stereotype about my country and I will tell you if it applies to me.
For the rebloggers: Make sure to put your country’s name in the tags UvU
hello there, I’m very bored and Biology homework is killing me, so feel free to send somethin’ in… (I’m English if you didn’t know) :)